But that was six weeks ago. The swelling's gone down and he's back to normal." Throughout this last bit, Weaver's been crutching toward the desk with Elizabeth stomping alongside her, haranguing her every step of the way. When they reach the desk and Weaver has still made no answer, Elizabeth adds, "If anything, I find his honesty rather refreshing. We could all do with a little more candour around here!" Weaver -- very gently, considering Elizabeth's totally inappropriate hissyfit -- replies, "Candidly speaking, then, are you sure that you can be objective about this?" In a strangled, hysterical voice, Elizabeth shrieks, "Of course I'm not objective! Look, I've been with him every moment, and I can tell you he's making remarkable progress, and is no danger to anyone -- except [getting in Weaver's face], perhaps, easily threatened minor demigods!" Okay, Elizabeth. The line you've crossed is so far behind you that it's invisible to your naked eye. I know you're mad, but this is not your fight, and this is not your business, and also? Shut the fuck up. Mitchell has quietly appeared and is on the other side of the desk as the conversation continues. Weaver quietly says, "He may be endangering patients. I'm not unsympathetic to his circumstances, but I have larger responsibilities." And she doesn't add -- as she certainly might -- that she is not making any judgment, here. She could have just gone to Romano and asked him to require Mark to go on medical leave -- or suspended him for his stunt with the patient the paramedics brought in last week -- but she didn't; she appealed to an authority higher than hers -- and one that is utterly objective and certainly would have no vested interest in diminishing the number of competent physicians working in public hospitals -- to do no more (as I understand it) than give Mark a test, so that if he passes, Weaver will have no legal recourse to get rid of him, and if he fails, it's all the proof anyone should need that Mark needs to take some time off while his aphasia heals, if it is, indeed, temporary. And if Elizabeth can't even see the argument that a language challenge puts Mark's patients in danger -- if her paramount concern right now is Mark's pride -- then she is just about the shittiest doctor this hospital has ever seen -- and that is saying something. Maybe if Weaver had said even some of that to Elizabeth, she wouldn't be so quick to spit the following drama-queeny conclusion: "It's despicable. And you should be ashamed of yourself. I hope that you end up with a possibly fatal illness one day, Kerry, so that I can do absolutely nothing to help you." Ah -- the line any of the five remaining Elizabeth fans needed to hear in order to convince them of how hard she sucks now. Elizabeth? SHUT! UP! MY GOD! Weaver watches her go, looking like she just had the wind knocked out of her. Mitchell comes around the corner and asks, "What was that about?" Weaver mutters, by way of response, "Some days, I really hate this job." Mitchell agrees, "Well, you, me, and everyone else around here. Are you ready?" Weaver looks at her blankly, and Mitchell reminds her, "Dinner?" Weaver says she's almost ready. She hands a chart to Carter and reminds him that he still has a leg laceration to suture. Carter distractedly assents. "Get there by Easter, would you please?" she snarls. Carter's all, yeah, yeah.